New Meetings and Old Greetings
by andophiroxia
Summary: A new Annointed one has emerged. But it's Egon's cousin.... Dang.


Sword of Ruth Part 1  
  
"There.that's it.."  
  
A pair of tweezers gently eased the electrode carefully into a puddle of.purple stuff. A bookish man, with red round glasses pushed the frames up his nose and squinted.  
  
"Nice..nice.."  
  
He pressed a button.  
  
The lights flickered on and off. The ectoplasmic spectrometer was still flatline.  
  
"Damn.." He muttered.  
  
Janine was busy checking all the messages on the voicemail.  
  
"HRMMMMMMMMmmmmmohmygodhesgotameatsaw.!!!!!GRMMMMMMBBBBBBBbbbb"  
  
"To erase this message."  
  
"Beep."  
  
"HAHHHAhhahahahaahHAHHAAHA I am the REEZOBLEEEUSSSZZZZZ."  
  
"Beep."  
  
'S'cuse me?"  
  
Janine looked up to see a thin figure cloaked in a black motorcycle suit. The equally black, shiny helmet looked incongruously back.  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
"Sure, I'm looking for a Dr. Egon Spengler." The gloved hands lifted the helmet free. The head shook down some long, straight, brown hair. It was tied back in a simple ponytail, with long bangs striped with a single strip of dark purple framed the face. A woman's sharp, rather pretty, face emerged from the cloud of hair, and her wolfish grey eyes stared steadily at Janine's. " I'm a special friend of Egon's." She tucked away the helmet under her arm. "Very special."  
  
"Oh really.." Janine narrowed her green eyes poisonously.  
  
"EGON!!!!!" Egon jerked up, his head nearly popping off his neck. Didn't sound good. Janine's voice had a tone of.. Jealousy?  
  
Egon ran up, and grinned. "Nick!" he cried out, and lifted the girl up in a huge bear hug. Much to Janine's surprise, she hugged back with the affability of another man.  
  
"Wassup, Egon? Looks like you haven't changed a bit." She grinned and gave him a kiss.  
  
"So who's this friend?" Janine stared angrily at both Egon and 'Nick'. Now admittedly, Egon was a little bit afraid of her stare. Nick returned the stare steadily, those grey eyes equally unsettling.  
  
"I'm his cousin, please to meet you finally, Janine." She extended out her hand.  
  
Nick sat back with a cup of coffee. She sipped it noisily.  
  
"Coffee, good?"  
  
She grinned. "Egon, you have always made unarguably the shittiest cup of coffee that I have ever tasted." She took a noisy sip. "But it's caffeine."  
  
He sat down. "How are things going? How's your mom and dad?"  
  
"STEP-dad." She raised an eyebrow. "Frankly, I don't know why he's called my dad. First of all, he's Japanese, and secondly, I NEVER considered him my father. He's Shin's father and that's all I care about."  
  
"How is your sister?"  
  
"She's doing good." She plunked down the heavy cup. "Interpol has been good to her, as they were to me."  
  
He looked at the ugly, rippling scar that spiraled across her right arm. "How is...? He trailed off.  
  
She covered it subconsciously with her gloved hand. "It's good..." She narrowed her eyes. "However I don't want to get into that now. That was then. This is now. I just came back for a visit. This isn't going to be a psychoanalysis of all that is wrong with me, eh?"  
  
"No.." Egon breathed. "It won't be."  
  
"Good."  
  
Slimer popped in and wanted some cupcakes. Egon got out a package and tossed them up. Slimer caught them like a seagull.  
  
Nick looked at Egon, "He doesn't poop like one, eh?"  
  
The rest of the guys came in. In their hands they were carrying the leftover remains of their night out in Styrofoam boxes, when Egon and a slender young lady that walked out. Peter just ran up and grinned. "Now Egon, don't be shy. Who's your friend?"  
  
Egon cleared his throat audibly. "This is my cousin, Nick Shi..."  
  
"No, Nick Corelli." Interuppted she.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Nick." Peter turned on his most affable grin. " Is it short for Nicole?"  
  
"No, Nicolette. However.." She stared at him into his eyes. He felt repelled yet attracted. Everything in these woman's features seemed to be wrong. However, they seemed to be all right. Her eyes were like a wolf's eyes, a light bluish grey, or maybe not.  
  
"However what?"  
  
She leaned in his ear and whispered, "Call me that, and I'll fucking kill you." She smiled gamely. Strangely enough, Peter had a bit of an icy feeling that she was not completely lying.  
  
Winston and Ray came up bearing affable smiles. Ray said, "Well, it's really nice to meet someone who's related to Egon." He shook her hand, surprised by the strong grip. Usually, a lot of women he met shook hands like dead fishes. She was actually live.  
  
"'Sup?" She shook Winston's hand as well. "Well sirs, as much as I would like to stay, you guys unfortunately caught me leaving. However, I shall see you tooo-morrow." Smirking, she walked up her red motorbike. Peter gulped. Ducati, the bike logo read. This girl knows racing. Wonder if she can drive like one?  
  
As if to answer his unvoiced query, Nick hopped on the Ducati, kicked the pedestal and revved, and drove off, turning a sharp corner. All in one swift move.  
  
Nick came back on Friday night. It was movie night, so she propped up her boots on the table and stared at the screen. Her gray eyes reflected back. It was a comedy they were watching, but Nick wasn't laughing. She was just staring. Every so often she would blink.  
  
Egon had been keeping tabs on her all evening. He noticed how strange here eyes were in the movie light. But then, they had always been strange, even back when they were kids. Nick was always kind of odd. Silent and sullen, she would occasionally blossom into self-deprecating, sarcastic, biting humor when it suited her. She was always like that. Ever since her father died, she withdrew into a self-concreting shell. Mummifying any softness and hiding any hurt or vulnerability that would pop out. When she was troubled, she just sat and stared in hours, by her books, or even without her books. Fighting other guys and school was her main thing. True, she was brilliant, but she had a streak in her that seemed particularly vicious. Whilst she would show up bruised and bloody-nosed, the unfortunate student (mostly male) would show up with broken fingers and dislocated parts. Her step-dad clucked and shrugged and did not mention that she was just a rebellious American kid, and his kid was better and more behaved.  
  
Shame, he thought, such a shame. Her dad was a great guy. Too bad he died in that fashion. It isn't fair.  
  
Janine curled up to Egon like a cat, "What are you thinking about, Einstein?" He looked at her and smiled, "Nothing really." "Well watch!" Janine took his arm and curled against it. Egon had a whole new set of rumination to do, but it wasn't about Nick.  
  
Peter edged closer to Nick. "This is the funny part." "Uh what?" "The funny part, you know like all the other parts in this movie. This movie was the top ten in AFI. Now, if you don't mind me asking, why aren't you laughing?" She didn't reply.  
  
The movie was soon over. Ray and Winston went to go set up their video game console. Egon went down to see his mold collection. Realizing that socialization was over, Nick stretched her arm in feigned sleepiness and said, "Well, gots to go. New day unfolding." She grinned - it was almost always self-deprecatory. Peter looked at her.  
  
"I'll walk you out."  
  
She grinned again, this time facetiously. "What? And protect my honor? Dr. Venkman, you surely jest."  
  
"Well.."  
  
"Don't worry, if anything is to happen to me, I'm just as well prepared." She brushed her short coat aside, revealing what appeared to be a Desert Eagle in a shoulder holster.  
  
Peter gulped.  
  
"Thought so." She muttered.  
  
"Is that legal?" he quavered.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Know how to use that?" It sounded kind of stupid.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh."  
  
She turned to leave out the door. Peter got up. "Well let me walk you out anyways."  
  
Nick curled herself around the firepole. "Catch me if you can.." Smirking, she wrapped her legs around it and slid down.  
  
Peter whoofed and followed suit.  
  
They walked to her bike, parked by Ecto-1. "It was nice to see you again."  
  
She turned to meet him. "It was nice to see you guys again too. See you." She checked her watch, ".later tonight."  
  
"Well do you want some coffee for the drive home? I can make it better than Egon can."  
  
She grinned again. Peter noticed she never really smiled, just gave a grin that told something more was up. She shook her head. "No, I am plenty awake anyways. I have to do something important today anyways, might as well get ready for it."  
  
"Well, I can take you home."  
  
"I live in Manhattan, short drive. Fugeddaboutit." She chuckled. "I think I can take care of myself." She waved him off.  
  
He saw her drive off into the distance.  
  
It started to rain outside. He went and closed the doors.  
  
Egon was looking at his mold collection, when Peter rapped on the door.  
  
He looked up, peering through large magnifying goggles.  
  
"What's up with Nick?"  
  
"Enamored with her Peter? Already?" Egon's voice echoed a quiet amusement. "Well, first to start off, she's not really interested..."  
  
Peter threw up his hands. "Egon, WHY is it when I ask about a girl, namely someone that is related to you.. You do.."  
  
"Today's the anniversirary of her father's death." Peter stopped. "Her dad died? How?"  
  
Egon sighed and took off the goggles. "Nick has been through a lot. Maybe too much. Her father was a cop. Great cop in the NYPD."  
  
"He died? On duty."  
  
"No." Egon signed again, this time from the deep. "One day, the whole family was on his day off and they were doing what families do. A fugitive took the family hostage. Her father, being an officer to protect the innocent, offered himself as a hostage. As the police surrounded the house, the fugitive came out, using her father as a bullet shield. The end result, the fugitive shot her father, and the fugitive was then shot out of the ensuing mayhem."  
  
"Where's her father now?"  
  
"He's interred in at the National Memorial. She goes there and visits him." He looked at him sadly, yet urgently. "I wouldn't go Peter. This is kind of private."  
  
Peter grinned sadly. "My mom's there too. They're probably the best of friends. So I have a reason." He turned to go.  
  
"Peter."  
  
Peter turned. Egon was standing up. "Please don't go." He pleaded. "There are a lot of things you don't know about her. She's not a terrible person, but she does have." His hand struggled to make the meaning. ".issues." His hands fell in his lap.  
  
Peter shrugged. "When does anyone NOT have issues? Hurts us all just the same."  
  
Egon looked at him silently. Pleading.  
  
Peter would do as any good friend would do. He left.  
  
Nick was staring at a simple, polished, gray granite gravestone. 'Nicolas Corelli, b. 1945-d. 1980. Valiant officer of the New York Police Department who gave his life for the people and his family in the most noble way.' The maple dropped a red leaf and skidded over the headstone.  
  
I miss you, Pa. I think every day that it should get better, but it doesn't. I wish you didn't die. I wish you saw me grow up. I wish that you were still here and tell me that you were proud of me and that I was good. I wish..  
  
There was a sharp rustle, and with one movement, Nick drew her gun and aimed it at the sound.  
  
"Who's there?" She said sharply.  
  
Two hands came out of the brush and raised in surrender. Peter slowly raised his head out from behind the bush. Nick rolled her eyes and holstered the gun.  
  
He grinned nervously. "Careful, you're liable to kill someone with that thing." As he walked up to her, she looked at him coldly, retorted, "I should fucking kill you anyways. What the hell are you doing here?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Did that cousin of mine tell you where I was? That fucking bleeding heart asshole."  
  
Peter interrupted. "He didn't. Actually, I was here to visit my mom."  
  
She fell silent at this. He continued, "You aren't the only one with family buried here. He walked over a ways, and put his hand on a red marble gravestone, so humble, it would not have been noticed, had he pointed it out. He beckoned her over. She walked over, the dead, brown leaves crunching under her motorcycle boots. The wind creaked around them in the morning dew.  
  
Just like dead souls that haunt us.. she thought.  
  
She looked at the headstone. It read, 'Patricia Venkman. Loving and Devoted Mother. B. 1945-d. 1990.' Nick looked up at him. Her steel eyes softened a bit and she looked down shamefacedly. "I'm sorry. She was pretty young.kind of like my dad. What was she like?"  
  
Peter's green eyes, suddenly became bright, Nick suspected, with unshed or unwillingly shed tears. He blinked for a moment. "Well, I figure that I would introduce you two, since you're kind of like family." He smiled and turned to the headstone. "Mom, I would like to introduce you to Nick Corelli. She's a girl that's kind of neat, but with a bit of a death wish."  
  
Nick chuckled.  
  
Peter continued, "But I figure she's really nice inside, and she comes here a lot to visit her dad. She really misses him, and she understands why I miss you a lot too. She misses her dad. Misses him so much it hurts, and that she wishes him back if she could. I do too. Maybe her dad and you could get together.."  
  
Nick grinned, despite the welling in her chest. It surprised her. "No way in hell," She whispered to him. "He was SO into Ma. He was goo- goo all over her."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
"Well, forget about the dating part then. I just want you to meet Nick. She's a great gal. There is something great about her." He put his head next to the headstone and listened.  
  
"Listen." He whispered.  
  
Nick knelt down and put her ear to the headstone. He grinned. "She likes you. She likes you a lot." Nick smiled, even though she couldn't hear anything. She knew that this was silly, but at the same time, she didn't mind.  
  
As you can tell, she really didn't smile often. It was often grinning, a way of showing her pleasure without putting down her walls. Her smile lit up her eyes, which had softened considerably, with the grey embracing the iris in an entrancing dance. Peter didn't know that those eyes could be so soft, and so welcoming. Her brown hair framing her face, blew around her like a cape. He noticed how the lean features fit together. The nose, the mouth, and her brow all fit in a lovely golden bronze perfection. Her lips were a rose pink. She seemed rather pretty in a wolfish sense, in his first impression, but then, she looked absolutely lovely.  
  
The stare deepened and Nick was lost in the way that Peter began to see her. His dark hair was framed against his pale skin in a distinct way. His eyes were just green to her before, but she noticed how dark green they were. How they changed when his moods were. Now they were softening, turning darker as he looked at her a bit longer. Were they getting closer? She could smell his shampoo. A fresh, clean smell. She was just becoming aware of his physical presence in a different way, and entirely alien way. She blinked and pulled away. Hoping that nothing warm was crawling up her face, (it was,) she coughed and stood up. Peter stood up at the same time.  
  
"Well, you want to go eat?" Her voice seemed unchanged.  
  
"Sure."  
  
They ate at Tom's Diner.  
  
"Remember this song? Do do doo do doo doo doo doo dut doo doo doo doo."  
  
"Okay, okay, Peter. Don't sing that song. Please. Had enough at it. Bad enough we're eating here."  
  
He grinned and leaned into his clam chowder. Nick ate it hungrily, surprised that she was that ravenous.  
  
He looked at her mischieviously. "Want to go somewhere?"  
  
She smiled again. Peter thought he would explode when he saw her eyes. "Sure."  
  
"Need to get ready?" "I need to shower."  
  
Her place was nice. Clean and spacious, there was deco that was simple, functional, and understated. She had pretty damnned nice taste. "Make yourself comfortable. Let me shower. Excuse me."  
  
Peter plunked down on the leather sofa. It was a soft, black suede and it cushioned all the right parts nicely. Good thing he wasn't standing up.  
  
Nick took her jacket off and he ogled at her. Everything was hidden in the bulky motorcycle outfit, that showed that she was fit, but it didn't reveal anything important. However, when the heavy, black leather was unsheathed from her upper body, Peter saw that she had a lithe grace of a cheetah, but her clearly defined muscles showed a lion's strength. The tanktop covered everything, but her more of her skin showed through, and it was golden. The smell of her, made him feel if he had tasted her, it would be cinnamon. The only thing that marred her figure, was a hideous sickle scar that puckered around her right arm. He wondered what happened, but he knew better than to press it. She loosed her hair, a dark brown cloud that draped over her shoulders like silk. It made soft swishing sounds as she moved her head. If he could hear that, he wasn't breathing.  
  
"Back."  
  
His eyes followed her hips as she walked into her room. She had a pacing quality, similar to a lioness. She tossed her jacket casually onto the sofa and strode into her room and shut the door.  
  
They drove his car over to Times Square. Other than the hellish New York traffic, which was always hellish, and parked. They both got out, and started walking down the street. Pretty soon, they were laughing at all the ridiculous new fashions that dotted the area. They stood back and watched random street performers juggle, dance, and pantomime. They ran into a few mimes, and Nick punched a few if they got too close. Peter and Nick made their way into the square and listened to the orchestra pit playing some classical music that seemed to fade in and out of time.  
  
It was nice.  
  
They turned to go.  
  
Then the earth exploded in front of them. Nick jumped back, taking Peter with her. He landed on top of her, and before he could formulate any wisecrack, she knocked him flat with her forearm and leaned over him. Her gun was already pointed to what made the explosion.  
  
A 20 foot tall octopus thing writhed around, with what seemed to be a million arms around its greasy, dank body. Its liquid green eyes shimmed evilly.  
  
"Ahhhhhh..the Anointed One. The Bearer of the Sword." It shot a tentacle down at her.  
  
Nick fired.  
  
The tentacle split in half, and fell to the ground, creating a beyond foul odor. The creature laughed and said in a sibilant voice, "This might actually be fun. You have a bit of fight in you."  
  
Peter was lying on the cobblestones and rubble, trying to get his wind back. She heard him wheeze a bit when the air sucked back into his lungs. Nick slipped her hand in her pocket. She took out a cell phone and held it behind her back. She didn't take the eyes off the creature.  
  
"Peter!"  
  
Peter saw the cell phone. "Call the guys." She whispered fiercely. "Call them. Run and call them. We need them HERE."  
  
He burbled, "What about you? That isn't."  
  
"WATCH OUT!" Nick screamed, and with a swift scoop of her foot and a not-so- gentle tackle with her back, she flung Peter out of the way of a massive tentacle that slammed down where they once stood. She threw her arms up at the mass of dust and rubble that spewed up. The tentacle raised again for another attack, slowly and deliberately. The cobblestones were reduced to dust. Nick uncovered her face and screamed at Peter. He saw blood where the stone had hit her skin.  
  
"FUCKING GO! RUN! GO! GET OUT OF HERE!!! CALL EGON! CALL THEM!!!"  
  
She shoved him on unsteady legs as they stood, and he wobbled and ran away. Nick did not take her eyes off the creature.  
  
"Foolish woman. Always. Their weapons are useless." It contemptuously flicked its tentacles. "Azaroth will reward me for this." He swung again.  
  
Nick was ready. She jumped over his swing and started firing like crazy. As she landed, she was still firing. The bullets made their mark into the creature, which spit them out with as much disgust as biting into a piece of rotten fruit. Nick figured if he was 'bleeding' from the wounds, enough would kill him. At least that's what Arnie had said.  
  
In a swift movement, Nick emptied the final round and replaced the magazine.  
  
"I knew you were fast.You surprise me." "Yeah, I figured that you weren't that much of a pussy if you could take a .357 bullet. But let's see." She aimed at the creature's eyes. "If you can take 2 more." She fired.  
  
The bullets hit home, and the creature actually howled with pain. He extended two tentacles and they smashed into the tables and chairs beside her. She ran, still firing towards his head, and dodging tentacles along the way.  
  
I hope Peter got a hold of them..  
  
Peter was breathing heavily. It seemed that it had been a long time since that he ran quarterback for Columbia. He dialed the phone, dropped it, and dialed again.  
  
"Hello, Ghos."  
  
"JANINE! Get to Times Square quick! Nick and I. under attack with a demon.hurry!!!"  
  
Peter almost keeled over when he heard the alarm sound from her connection.  
  
Nick was breathing heavily and was still aiming her gun at the demon. Pretty much everything was smashed to hell. Anything recognizable of the square was destroyed. The demon narrowed its eyes.  
  
"You are now becoming an irritant. Now just lay back and submit."  
  
She narrowed her eyes in return. They became steel. "Go fuck yourself to hell!" she spat.  
  
The demon, with lightning speed, flung its tentacles at her. Nick jumped to the side, stumbled on a loose cobblestone, and fell to her side. She lost grip on her gun, and she lost it in the dust cloud. Knowing better to grope for it, her other hand reached for her boot.  
  
She saw the other tentacle, looming just in time above her. Rolling over, her hand withdrew a wicked-looking Bowie knife. Rolling to a stand, via her knees, she felt every bite of the stone and wood fragments that littered the ground. As the tentacle slammed down, she then shoved the knife into the corded appendage and ripped through in a gush of slimy, fetid green. The creature actually howled in pain.  
  
Good.  
  
The siren cut through the honks and blares of the New York traffic. The Ecto-1 was racing towards the site of the incident. "Unit 47, please clear the en route to Times Square." Egon's voice did not betray his worry. However, they all were worried. Worried like hell.  
  
"Copy that Ecto-1, we are now clearing en route to Times Square."  
  
It's nice to have the city's finest know you by name.  
  
Nick was breathing heavily, knife poised. Her clothes were besmirched with the creature's blood and Nick could swear that the blood felt overwhelmingly tainting and evil. She needed to shower. Badly. Clouds of debris made it hard to see and her eyes stung.  
  
Her knife still gleamed.  
  
The tentacle swung out of nowhere and slammed her chest and she tumbled over some broken chairs and hit the wall. Hard. The breath got knocked out of her, and she stumbled forward to catch balance.  
  
Fuck. I think I broke a few ribs there. She readied her knife. Her breathing was labored and painful. Every breath seemed to constrict more and more. She squinted her eyes.  
  
Another tentacle slammed across her face, tumbling her around on the ground like a doll, she landed on her elbows and started to get up. Painfully. She stared into the clouds of smoke and debris with steely hatred. Her knife was shattered.  
  
Great. Fucking great.  
  
"Guess shall we say, you are really 'fucked' now?"  
  
The creature laughed in triumph. Then it roared. In pain.  
  
The electron tendrils curled around the killing tentacle, as the 4 guys held the monster at sway.  
  
"Hang on this one, this one has a bit of fight left in him." Ray muttered through clenched teeth.  
  
"Don't worry about that man." Winston said.  
  
Egon just narrowed his normally placid blue eyes. Peter was surprised at the coldness in them. The creature writhed around in agony.  
  
"Azaroth...Benidictus Benedictus."  
  
Peter turned to the other guys, How are we going to trap this guy?, was his look.  
  
The others gave him an answer. How should we know?  
  
Peter sighed, great, he thought. They all started to sway back and forth due to the creature's struggles within the proton beams.  
  
The creature looked down at them with contemptuous revulsion. "See the day, you beings of perishable flesh, see the day.." He then vanished into a thin black light.  
  
Peter looked at Egon. "Is there something that we should expect?"  
  
A concussion wave from the black light threw everyone back like a nuke. Mocking laughter echoed in the air.  
  
A few minutes passed.  
  
Peter's feet were up in the air. "Well, that explains it." He turned to Egon, whose cheek was squashed into the ground. "Anything we should know about? Know why that thing attacked us?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh okay." They all slowly got up, feeling for parts broken, missing, or otherwise. They ran into the debris, calling her name.  
  
A voice came from the southerly direction. "Here."  
  
Nick was lying against a wall. Her voice didn't show what wounds she might have. She looked pretty bad. She was bleeding from several different cuts and her breathing was labored and painful.  
  
Egon knelt down and held her shoulder. "Nick, are you all right?"  
  
"Do I look all right?" She coughed from the dust. "Sure, just give me some coffee, and I should be good as new." She started to push herself up. Egon stopped her with a gentle hand. "Nick." He said gently. "Stay." Nick complied and just sat still. Peter came up and said, "Wow, from all that goo, you sure showed him."  
  
"Yeah." She grinned painfully. "Yeah.Peter..remember 15 years ago?"  
  
He was taken aback. "What?"  
  
"Ahhh.well you don't remember.. Figure, it wasn't that important.." Her words trailed off as she slumped into unconsciousness. Peter sat back, and just could watch as Egon, Ray, and Winston, started slapping her face and hands gently to wake her up again. "Wake up Nick. Wake up. You need to stay awake.."  
  
Peter didn't think of anything. He couldn't. What could 15 years ago could have...  
  
Oh God.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED... 


End file.
